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Show Friday, October 3, 2008 % 1 HE SIGNPOST EDITORIAL Signpost Viewpoint Elderly drivers Last week, I watched in fascination as an elderly woman pulled calmly out of a side street onto Harrison Boulevard. She was checking to see if any cars were coming so she could turn right. The generally accepted technique for this rather routine procedure is to pull out just far enough to observe oncoming traffic, and enter the lane safely. TTiis driver, however, decided to forgo normalcy and pulled an entire car length into the northbound lanes ... and stopped. On Harrison. Sideways in traffic. There she sat, placidly blocking traffic, her hands placed in the universal "1 am an old person" position of 11 and 1, trying to peer around the honking vehicles into the second northbound lane, showing about as much concern for the situation as a cat watching its owner choke to death. (Read: not very.) It's a sensitive subject, but we can't let these people go around killing because we're too nice to tell them otherwise. Sure, she's your sweet old grandma and he's your doddering old grandpa, but, for the love of God, take their keys away. It is a huge responsibility to pilot a vehicle — not everyone (and. it's amazing this has to be explicitly stated) has the capacity to navigate close to two tons of metal at high speeds. The Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh released a study of data collected from 1999-2004, which showed that drivers aged 75 to 84 caused a death toll equal to that of teenage drivers. Lets put that in perspective. When you're a teenager, you're a moron, and you drive like it. I pd list some examples, but... OK, just one: emo. The difference between teenagers and the elderly is that teenagers get better at driving (maturing psyches, motor skills, etc.), and old people get worse (deteriorating psyches, motor skills, vision, reaction time, the onset of arthritis, being stubborn, etc.). According to the university study, drivers older than 85 rocketed the fatality rate to four times higher than that for teens. Changes that occur over a long period of time often go unnoticed. I, personally, have never witnessed grass grow, but that doesn't mean it doesn't add 80 pounds to my trash cans every week. That slow pain building up in ones hands may be a minor annoyance in 1985, but, in 2008, it has turned into full-fledged arthritis; one day you simply stop using your turn signal altogether, and the notorious blind spot becomes the everywhere-it-hurts-too-much-to-turn-tolook-at spot. As reaction time and vision deteriorate over the years, the distance that old woman had to pull out got farther and farther until, apparently, she had to have a direct Uneof-sight with oncoming, honking, flashing traffic to distinguish it from an empty lane. A common complaint about elderly drivers is they drive slowly. A common response to this is to say they are driving safer than the "whippersnapper speeders" out there. An uncommon, yet logical response to this response would be to evenly nod, and slap the responder in the head. When they finish reeling, ask them when the elderly started driving slow — the instant they jumped in the driver's seat as a "young'n," or when they could no longer tell the difference between a traffic light and a window glare? But perhaps the most understated validation to get these people off the streets is this: They are KILLING people. It's not so easy to shrug off a simple traffic violation when that same 85-year-old woman falls asleep on the highway and liquifies a bus full of kids. If they're willing to put us all in their (harm's) way, I'm willing to graphically describe what the consequences of their decisions are: little kid's brains scattered across the highway. Lonely puppies (the kids are dead). Dead mothers. Screaming relatives. Blood-spattered sidewalks. A young empty-eyed newlywed trying absently to clean off the dried blood of his former-bride. You. — Jason Sherman Comment on this stor)' at wsusignpost.com Arts, Humanities enrich our life and community Madonnc Miner • Cuest commentary October is National Arts and Humanities Month (NAHM), coordinated by Americans for the Arts to recognize and celebrate the importance of arts and culture in our daily lives. Why might residents of Northern Utah pay attention to arts and humanities during this month and, more generally, throughout the year? Broadly, the arts encompass creative activity in dance, literature, music, and theatre, whereas the humanities engage in the study of languages, literature, history, and philosophy. In other words, the arts and humanities center upon human expressivity; these areas of study encourage us to convey our ideas and our feelings in a range of media and then to analyze those thoughts and feelings — as well as the thoughts and feelings of others — with an intelligence enhanced by exposure to great thinkers and creators of the past and present. The arts and humanities both connect us to and encourage us to critique our culture, and allow us to be receptive to the cultures of others. Some have argued that participation in the arts and humanities makes us "more moral" human beings. Others have claimed that when we fail to partake of the arts and humanities, we become a "nation at risk" of losing its cultural legacy. I don't want to pursue either of those lines of argument. Instead, I will suggest that our active engagement in the arts and humanities produces at least two very concrete and very desirable results: 1) we grow intellectually; and 2) our communities grow economically. Repeatedly, studies show that education in the arts and humanities produces students better able to succeed both in school and in the workplace than students who lack such education. For example, students who take coursework in the arts and humanities score better on standardized tests in reading and math, have higher grade point averages, and are more likely to stay in school longer than students who do not partake in arts and humanities education. Arts education enhances students' cognitive development, confidence, inventiveness, as well as communication and problem-solving skills. Further, according to Americans for the Arts, "arts education may be especially useful for students who are economically disadvantaged and/or in need of remedial education" (see americansfortliearts.org). Equally compelling are data that connect spending in the arts and humanities to communities' economic good health. One of the fastest growing markets in our nation (and in northern Utah) is tourism; 65 percent of U.S. travelers include cultural events on their trips. Though some visitors may travel to Utah to run marathons, ski or hike, while here they spend an evening watching movies at the Egyptian Theater, visit the Shaw Gallery or attend a performance of the Ogden Symphony. In addition to tourism dollars are those dollars generated by the non-profit arts industry. Again, according to Americans for the Arts, "the non-profit arts industry (museums, theater companies, performing arts centers, orchestras, dance companies, arts councils and others) generates $24.4 billion in federal, state, and local tax revenues annually." These three levels of government spend less than $3 billion per year supporting the arts — which means arts spending generates eight dollars in return for every dollar spent not a bad return! Thus, the arts and humanities are good for us intellectually and economically. These two lines of evidence, however, don't respond fully enough to the question I raised at the start of this essay: why might residents of Northern Utah attend to and participate in the arts and humanities? My fuller answer is more personal, more heart-felt; I cannot support it with data, tax figures or comparisons of standardized test scores. Instead, I have to appeal to your feelings as well as your minds, have to askyou to return to moments when you have taken joy from a musical performance, a poem, a translation. What happens in those moments when we are rendered breathless by the virtuosity of "Interpreti Veneziana," or carried away by Billy Collins reading "Madmen" or caught up in the intricacies of "Don Quixote" is that we experience what it means to be fully alive, open to other human beings, open to the richness of life itself. I ask you to partake of the arts and humanities because these experiences will knock your socks off—and the feel of grass under freshlybared feet is something beyond the quotidian, far, far beyond our everyday well-shod lives. I encourage you to partake of the arts and humanities in the month of October; my personal recommendations includethe musical "Urinetown," directed by Jim Christian, opening Oct. 3; "Samarabalouf," a trio from France, playing at Peery's Egyptian Theater on Oct 4; and "North Star," installation an by Michael McMillen, on display at the Shaw Gallery in the KimbaUVisualArtsCenteruntilNov. 1. Enjoy Miner is Dean of the College of Arts & Humanities at Weber State University. For a calendar ofarts and humanities events taking place during October, visit weber.ediUcaW The Nuance: Finding a place of solitude Josh McCatterty Signpost columnist Normally, I'm not a fan of pain, but I recently made an exception in Teton National Park, just outside of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It was the first vacation I had taken since jj spring trek along the California coastline last March, beginning the West Coast holiday with three beerdrenched, hedonism-filled days in San Francisco, taking me from the beach to the bay. San Francisco, much like Ogden, is a city laid upon mountainous terrain. Scaling the famous Nob Hill feels more like a hike than a city stroll. Even so, marching from park to gallery to restaurant to bar in a contender for most inclined city in America is no preparation for the rocky trails of the unaffected frontier. We arrived at the trailhead a seven o'clock in the a.m. The air was brisk, and just above freezing. The sun was barely making its golden, but still-weak face, an observable entity. As we stretched our legs and filled our backpacks with water and breakfast bars, we scarfed down half a box of doughnut holes to reach a prepared calorie intake. I had two companions for the adventure, both of whom were far more accustomed to this kind of thing. The trail began on a cliffside over looking a massive lake shimmering like glass in the blue dawn. The green, red and yellowfall leaves had begun their yearly routine of plummeting from their summer homes on the tree branches at fluttering speed. Some were soft beneath our feet while others crunched on the untilted trail. The track continued on even footing for about two miles, just enough to make me comfortable. 1\irning away from the water, however, and towards the canyon, I began to feel at home again. The path suddenly shot into a vertical ascension of rocky terrain and bumpy boulders. Realizing the earlier portion really had been too good to be true, I followed my cohort up, though I fell further and further behind as the trudging progressed. At the top of the first climb, we took rest upon a large flatfaced stone, where we slurped up water, and attempted to spook each other with phony bear sightings. After 10 minutes or so, we were back at it, with another significant rise before things evened out a little. Advancing through the canyon, as the park's namesake looked upon our backs instead of our faces, I could finally see the place's appeal. Swampy rivers and aged trees intermingled in natural harmony just left of our trail. Critters and creatures scurried and hurried along side us like the natural creations they were. A giant moose lumbered a few yards away from us, deceptively docile in its demeanor. He raised his head from gobbling up mossy plant-life to give us a polite nod, and perhaps a polite warning. About seven miles into our quest, we hit the last great incline. Scaling over unsteady rocky walls, we could look down and marvel at unperverted wilderness. Devils fork rivers and dotted ponds littered the green valley below us, making a superb playground for the area's inhabitants. The sun was now high as noon had come and the morning's frosty flavor had been replaced with the beating heat of the mid-day's punishing spice. I saw the nature-boy of our three man troop suddenly stop at he reached the pinnacle of a hill. From his mesmerized expression, I knew we had arrived. Moments later, I was beside him, looking down upon the place known as Lake Solitude. Like a massive mirror in the middle of nowhere, it gleamed with the extraordinary brilliance of a silent liquid firework. After a few moments of appreciation, we raced down to the beach, kicked off our shoes, and laid out upon the rocks. For the hour we laid enjoying our intangible trophy, we paid only courteous salutations to the few fellow travelers at the pristine location. Even the two attractive women who gave no mind to stripping to their birthday suits and diving into the icy liquidfilled hole, received only a wave from our party. I could have laid there all day, gazing at the seclusion, but ominous storm clouds were moving in and we had to make it out by dark. Comment on this story at wsusignpost.com 'Cats on campus Have you felt the impact of the financial crisis yet? How do you see it affecting your future? Compiled by Ben Taylor Photos by Catherine Mortimer "I've felt the impact, because I build custom cabinets and furniture and the construction company has completely collapsed. TJiere's nothing left in the housing market: With the bailout, unless they do it properly, it's not going to help anybody who actually needs a job. — David Cummins forensics science junior "I'm more cautious. It makes you think where your money is at, and how you're going to use it Seeing all these big financial companies go under makes you kind ofscared." — Mark Reeder human performance junior "I'm not really worried about it, because we are jumping on it sooner than we did last time. I haven't felt any effects just yet I think as long as people are smart with their money and don't buy things they can't afford we'll be alright." —JoelUnford physics freshman "I personally haven'tfelt the impactyet, but I do believe that in times to come in thefuture it's really goingto hit us hara\Theym are saying tiiat Social Security for us is gone. It's going to be liarderjbr us to purchase houses, take out loans, or get retirement funds. It'sjust a huge mess." —Austin Russell pre-med freshman "I'm kind of worried about retirement. I'm expecting to put money into an account, and get interest so that, when I retire, I will liave money, but as it's looking now there's not a productive way to invest your money." :/•' —Erin Beuchert nursing senior "We are going to have to * make up all this money to get ourselves out of debt, and that will put us in an even bigger mess, We are just going to be continually paying, and our kids are going to be feeling it tpo. I don't like it at all — Brittany Barnett .* psychology sophomore n. |
